


Movie CPR

by Heavenward (PreludeInZ)



Series: Thunderbirds Prompts [34]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: CPR, Death, Gen, Introspection, Stream of Consciousness, a very rare first person fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/Heavenward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gordon Tracy vs the theatrics of CPR. First Person POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie CPR

I still believe in Movie CPR.

I mean, not the way they do it, they get _that_ all wrong. No one breaks ribs like they need to, there's no one-way valves and blue neoprene gloves, though I guess you go without both if you have to. Virgil won't do it without, maybe he needs that barrier. 

Movie CPR stays sexy, somehow, I guess maybe because it's always some pretty young creature who needs it, and somehow never someone you've just fished out of cold water, despite the fact that he weighs as much as two of you and was probably headed for some sort of coronary something anyhow. Someone who reminds you of a corpse more than he reminds you of a father, and then you get trapped in that hundred-compressions-a-minute cycle of the way corpses remind you of fathers, and how that's kind of fucked up, and maybe it's a selfish place for your brain to go; thinking about your dad when it's someone else's dad who needs you. But in the end it doesn't matter, because in the end you didn't save either of them.

Maybe it's about the way it looks. Maybe it's about the fact that you tried, did your best for the people looking on, crying and screaming and begging. Is it you or them who benefits, though, from that last ditch effort. Maybe that's why no one ever stops me. All of them know, every last one of them. Virgil still makes Al hang back, when it's really dire, but no one ever stops _me_. I don't think I'll ever ask, but they might know better than I do who I'm doing it for.

Purity of heart or purpose don't really factor into the calculation of the sort of stats that aren't heartening at all, when you know them. There's no little disclaimer where the subtitles belong, about the actual odds of saving a life. _Trying really hard_ hasn't ever counted for what I wish it did, outside those rare occasions where putting in the work just translates directly into actual achievement, no inverse decay of effort or time. Anybody could be a gold medalist if they just swam like a maniac for long enough.

Only that's not true and I know it's not true. Diminishing that One Big Thing I did doesn't take the edge off all the little things I fail to do, because the odds are stacked too high and no amount of trying really hard will ever count for anything.

Anyway. These are all just the sorts of things you think of, when your palms are cracking someone's sternum and you're just waiting for Scott to call you off. I feel like I've done this a million times. I recertify everything at least once a year, twice for the stuff that really matters. CPR, ironically, I re-up in spring and fall. Maybe I don't even do this right anymore, maybe I just know the way it looks in the movies. 


End file.
